


You're my only hope

by lostwithoutmyanchor (mysourwolf)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Bad Friend Scott, But in a canon way, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, POV Peter Hale, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Time Travel, for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 17:38:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15442332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysourwolf/pseuds/lostwithoutmyanchor
Summary: "Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my bedroom?” Peter snarled.The man sighed and straightened up, dragging a dirty hand through his sticky, wild hair. Peter could see and smell blood and sooth on him. As if he had been in a fire. Underneath the dirt there was pale skin peaking out and for a moment Peter had the strangest urge to lead the man into his shower and personally wash the dirt away.orOn the day of his twenty-first birthday Peter Hale gets visited by a very special guest.





	You're my only hope

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this early because I won't have time tomorrow  
> \--  
> A big thank you to everyone involved in Steter Week and especially to my friend AteanaLenn to motivate me to write this <3  
> \--  
> Not beta-read

Peter languidly stretched out on the soft cotton sheets, revelling in the silence. He was tired because it had been a long day. A very good day but long. It had been the day of his twenty-first birthday and it had started early in the morning with the usual pack breakfast with his immediate family. Only today he didn't have to cook, though watching Laura burn the pancakes and Derek spill the coffee was hardly an improvement.

When everybody else left the pack house to go to work or school, Peter had used his day off to finally access the trust fund his grandmother had set up for him. He quietly met with a realtor and paid for the apartment he had picked out a few months ago before handing her a big tip for holding it for him for so long.

His new place was perfect. It was mostly surrounded by office buildings meaning he would have peace and quiet at night and on weekends. But it was close enough to the preserve to hear a warning howl if there ever were any problems.

Peter loved his pack. Well, most of them. Okay, just two. But he didn’t think he could be blamed when Cora and Derek were the only ones that loved him back. Still, despite the animosity it was his pack and he would protect it fiercely. Even Talia saw that and therefore had made him the pack enforcer.

The official ceremony had been this evening, involving a huge dinner (any excuse to get together the whole pack) and short announcement from Talia to make it binding. Peter fled soon after towards his new safe haven.

He had taken a long soak in his new tub and then slid into his new bed and new sheets. For once they only smelled of the detergent instead of five other Hales after his sheets had gotten lost in the washing.

With a content sigh, he let his hand wander over his stomach and further down. What better way to celebrate his new privacy? He was about to rub himself to hardness when there was a loud bang and suddenly a person was standing in his bedroom, flailing wildly.

Before he could register more than the person’s gender and dirty appearance, the young man gasped and threw himself at Peter. Wolfing out, Peter scrambled away and gave a warning growl. The young man’s face fell and he suddenly looked heartbreakingly sad.

“Peter,” he whispered and tried to reach out.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my bedroom?” Peter snarled.

The man sighed and straightened up, dragging a dirty hand through his sticky, wild hair. Peter could see and smell blood and sooth on him. As if he had been in a fire. Underneath the dirt there was pale skin peaking out and for a moment Peter had the strangest urge to lead the man into his shower and personally wash the dirt away.

“My name is Stiles,” the man said which made Peter blink and shake out of his weird fantasy.

“Stiles,” Peter repeated flatly.

The man, Stiles, rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yep,” he confirmed, popping the last letter annoyingly which, even more annoyingly, drew Peter’s gaze to his lips. Stiles smirked as if he could sense Peter’s interest but then his expression was crushed again.

“We’ve met or will meet in the future,” he choked out.

“Oh, of course, the future,” Peter said in a mocking tone and shifted to his human form since Stiles didn’t look much of a threat at this moment. But of course Peter would still be vigilant.

“Yes, the future, you asshole.”

And that had Peter rear up. “How dare you-”

“Just shut up and listen,” Stiles shouted and tore on his own hair. He took a deep breath and let his arms fall down, looking at Peter with bright, amber eyes.

“In my time everyone I love, and everyone you love is dead. Except me. And the only reason I’m alive is because you stupid jerkface threw yourself on top of me right before the explosion.”

Peter’s eyes widened. He wasn’t sure if what Stiles said was true but it was clear that Stiles believed it. That he believed him and Peter had some kind of connection in the future. It sounded ludicrous but of course time travel didn’t sound so outlandish when you grew up as a werewolf. Before he could comment however, Stiles spoke again.

“When I realized you were dead-” His voice broke for a moment. “I turned to plan Y as a last resort even though you had forbidden me to do it.”

“Wouldn't the last resort be plan Z?” Peter asked, surprising himself with his gentle tone.

Stiles laughed weakly and wiped some tears off his cheeks. “Plan Z is for zombies. I explained that to you. Or I will anyway. Repeatedly.”

Something about that made Peter smile but he still needed more information.

“So plan Y was time travel?”

“Yeah, our very, very last resort.” Stiles nodded.

“Why is that?” Peter asked, going with the flow of the story. “It seems very handy.”

Stiles closed his eyes and Peter could smell his hurt even through the blood and sooth. “Because for me to get here… I had to sacrifice my spark,” Stiles whispered.

Peter gasped. He was well-read and he knew how rare and precious a spark was. Giving it up would be inconceivable. And yet Stiles had. For him. For Peter. Or so it seemed.

“What do you want from me?” he asked.

Stiles gasped a breathless laugh and pressed a hand to his mouth, smearing the blood on his cheeks.

“Sorry, it’s just that you asked me that before. I wouldn’t leave you alone. Would insist to hang out with you. And you couldn’t understand why until I spelled it out for you.”

“Why did you?” Peter asked softly, holding his breath.

Stiles’s gaze went soft and he was about to reply when he hissed, pressing a hand to his stomach.

“No time. My spark is nearly burned out. I will be pulled back soon.”

He stepped forward and grabbed Peter’s hand tightly. “Peter, you have to promise me. Don’t let Paige get bitten.”

“Paige? Derek’s girlfriend?” Peter asked dumbly. How did Stiles know of his vague plan? Peter had heard whispers of a peace treaty and had planned to use it. Because Talia hated Paige and would never give her the bite.

Even Paige had agreed to it for Peter to find someone. Though, she wanted to wait until Derek told her about werewolves himself for some romantic reason.

“Listen to me!” Stiles gripped his hand harder. “Paige will die if she gets the bite. And you need to kill Gerard and Kate Argent as soon as possible. Even at this point in time they have already killed hundreds. You have to promise me, Peter.”

Peter’s heart started to beat faster. For years he had wanted to kill Gerard. Ever since he had learned of the hunter’s hand in his grandmother’s death. But his Alpha father and then Talia had forbidden it to keep the peace. Now it seemed as Peter finally had a reason. Only… what if this was a trap somehow?

“I will. I promise,” he said carefully, testing Stiles.

Stiles stepped closer and cupped Peter’s face. “And then, in a few years, I would like you to come find me. Not now, though. I'm not- I'm not in a good place at this point in time. I wouldn't be much help to you." He gave Peter the sweetest smile before he continued earnestly, "But you have to be careful. The whole reason I’m here is to keep you alive. Do you understand?”

The amber eyes bore into Peter’s and he felt himself nod. “I do. There’s only one problem.”

Raising his eyebrows, Stiles looked at him questioningly.

“Why should I trust you?”

After a soft laugh, Stiles brushed his bloody lips against Peter’s. “Because I’m your mate.”

And then with another bang he was gone.

~~°~~

“‘But Stiles, it’s a date night. And you don’t have one’”, Stiles whispered under his breath, repeating Scott’s earlier words while he browsed the dvd shelves. “Nevermind that I could probably beat all of them seeing as I play with the station’s bowling team.”

He angrily put back the cover of ‘Return of the Jedi’ before letting his hand hover over ‘A New Hope’. Of course he had all the movies at home but they were special editions and he didn’t want to scratch them.

“Ever since Scotty-boy fell in love he basically ignored me,” he whispered to Luke, idly stroking over the jedi’s cute face on the cover. “It’s only been a week but it already feels like you guys are my only friends again.”

With a deep, overly dramatic sigh he grabbed the little marker he’d need to rent the dvd. Then he turned towards the cash register and face planted right into someone’s chest. Someone’s very firm chest. Someone’s chest that was only covered with a very flimsy and soft v-neck t-shirt.

Stiles looked up, right into the bluest blue eyes he had ever seen. Two strong hands came up to Stiles’s arms to steady him and the person smiled. The man, Stiles’s brain supplied. Other than that he couldn’t really form a thought, helplessly taking in the man’s attractiveness. If Stiles were into older men, and it seemed that he was, this would totally be his type.

The man gently ran his hands upwards along Stiles’s arms which caused a spark low in Stiles’s belly. He swallowed thickly and tried to say something but the man lifted a finger and placed it on Stiles’s lips. He was slightly taller than Stiles, looking down at him with an intense gaze. When he spoke his voice was smooth but his excitement was clear as day.

“You must be Stiles.”

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> I've changed Peter's age a bit so in the end he's probably only around 28.


End file.
